Tuesday, November 26, 2013

I
heard an NPR news report today that the Guinness World Record for the largest
number of Christmas lights is now held by an Australian family, with 500,000 lights.Apparently, they beat out an American family
who topped out at 350,000.

I’m
glad the Americans lost the title, though, I’m sure, they will come back to try
to top the Australians. I dread the thought of how many lights it will take to set the record next year.

Has
anybody thought about the huge waste of energy this is? Isn't it bad enough that we pollute the air to make electicity for necessary consumption? I’d
like to pluck these half-wits out of their mindless cocoons and shake them
silly.

Sure,
I know that this energy abuse is just a miniscule fraction of the overall
consumption and waste, but, the symbolism of this spectacle is so disturbing.
It drives me crazy that these people are rewarded for their excesses and that
a multinational corporation promotes this useless macho competition.

And
while I’m raving, I am wondering what any of this has to do with Christmas.Or is that a stupid question?

______

I wrote this for the
Week 105 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write a 33-333 composition
using the word “pluck” in this context: “to
move, remove, or separate forcibly or abruptly.”

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

“Ok, what did you accomplish by saying that?...Did you really need to offer your opinion?...Jeez, that was a dumb-ass thing to do….So, what’s the big deal?...Just let it go!…Yeah, you showed his ass...but, maybe a little over the top, don’t you think?...Chill out man…you’re gonna’ get there eventually...Does everything have to be so serious?...Really, do you need to talk politics?...Just talk about the weather, for God’s sake…oh yeah, that’s a tough subject these days too... ”

If you hadn’t already guessed, I am introducing you to my inner companion. He goes wherever I go and talks to me all the time. He is a harsh critic and very judgmental. He’s especially annoying when he contradicts himself and rambles.

I think that most people have an inner companion, so I guess I can’t really complain. It’s just that this guy never shuts up.
_________

I wrote this for the Week 104 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write a 33-333 word composition using the word, “companion” in the context of one that is closely connected with something similar or one who is employed to live with and serve another.

Friday, September 27, 2013

Though romanticized
in Dumas’ fiction, the real Three Musketeers were a pathetic lot: Pathos, a habitual whiner, Orthos, couldn’t
stand straight without his corrective boots and Ignoramus, was…well, just that,
a real dumb-ass.

______

Blogger's Notes: You will see that there are four people in the illustration. The fourth person, on the far left, is Neuros, who was not technically a "Musketeer". He was a mere "hanger on" and had "issues".I wrote this for the Week 87 Trifextra
Writing Challenge where we are to write 33 words about a famous trio from
literature, history or popular culture.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Mexico!” on
Mexican Independence Day, I wondered why most people think that Cinco de Mayo
is Mexico's Independence day.

“El Grito de
la Indepencia” (the Cry of Independence) was first heard in the small town of
Delores, Mexico on September 16,
1810.The actual date of Mexico’s independence
from Spain did not occur until September 28, 1821, over a decade later,
however, it is the date of the declaration
of independence that is celebrated.

So, what is
Cinco de Mayo?That date commemorates
the improbable Mexican victory over the much larger French army on May 5, 1862
in the Battle of Puebla. Indeed, some said the Mexicans were chasing a rainbow
the day they took on the French and it wasn’t until four years later that the
French finally withdrew from Mexico.

While Cinco
de Mayo is a day of celebration, it is not a Mexican national holiday, nor is it widely
celebrated in Mexico.It is mainly
celebrated by Mexicans who live in the state of Puebla (Hooray for the home
team!) and, of course, “sympathetic” Americans who enjoy pounding down a few
beers in support of the “cause.”

Ok then, why
is Cinco de Mayo such a big deal? As I
pictured all those gringos downing their Coronas with limes jammed in the
bottlenecks, I started wondering whether Corona was hoping to promote sales and
created this “national [read: American] holiday”.After all, didn’t some greeting card company
invent Mother’s and Father’s Days?And
it dawned on me that “Dieciséis de Septiembre” (September 16) is not nearly as
catchy as “Cinco de Mayo.”

Ok, Corona,
tell us the truth.It was a big
marketing campaign, right?I can picture
those big inflated Corona bottles bouncing around every Mexican restaurant on
May 5th.It’s cool, you can tell
us.Everybody loves Cinco de Mayo.

__________

I wrote this for the Week 95 Trifecta
Writing Challenge where we are to write a 33-333 word composition using the
word “rainbow” in the context of “an illusory goal or hope.”

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Marcia
and I have been exploring cool, little towns in Mexico and we stopped in Sayulita,
a city of about 5,000 people on the Pacific coast.It’s about a 45 minute drive from Puerto
Vallarta, to the north.

The
first person we spotted in Sayulita was a shirtless, older American guy with a
huge gut. He was adorned with several tattoos and a pony tail that began at the
back of his head, his crown being bald or, “pelon”, in Mexican slang. In the
next few minutes, we saw several men wandering the streets who, for the most
part, matched this description.A few of
them actually wore shirts, mostly, “wife beaters”.

This
is not to say the place was overrun by gringos.There were many locals manning the surf shops and bars.Indeed, one young entrepreneur approached me
and said, in perfect English:“Hey, do
you want some ‘weed’ or ‘coke’?I can
get you anything you want.” The way he said “anything”, was a little creepy,
yet, strangely charming.

After
declining my young friend’s offer, we sat at a table planted in the sand and
ordered rum with fruit juice.As we
sipped our drinks, we noticed an Aztec mask nailed to the palapa that we were
sitting under.Looking puzzled, Marcia
said: “I don’t think the Aztecs
inhabited this area of Mexico.”I
couldn’t resist offering a cynical response:“Maybe the Aztecs came here to do business with the gringos.”

Watching
the people drift by, we could see that Sayulita is a place for alienated Americans
to escape, hibernate or to just wait for the next big thing to happen.I suddenly had a bright idea:“Ok, so this place is a little sketchy, but
it’s interesting.I’ll write an article
for one of those In-flight magazines…they love this stuff, right?”Marcia looked at me quizzically and
said:“Sure, I bet they just love
stories about places where people go to take drugs and waste away their last
days.”

_______

I wrote this for the
Trifecta Week 94 Writing Challenge where we are to write a 33-333 word
composition using the word “mask” as a noun.

Needless to say,
after Marcia pointed out the obvious, I didn’t submit this piece to any “In-flight”
magazines.

And wide_____ I wrote this for the Week 90 Trifecta Writing Challenge where were are to write a 33-333 word composition using the word "grasp" in the context of take hold of in the mind, as in "comprehend".Your comments are appreciated.

Dave:“Well, it’s hard to explain, but in thinking
about my future, about 40 years from now, I imagine I will be doing these writing
challenges and I will have to use the word “band” as a verb, not a noun.”

Rob:“For God’s sake, ok then, let’s band together
and form a rock group.”

Dave:“Ok, that’s better.What instruments are we going to play?”

Rob:“Well, Curt can only play drums, so he’s the
drummer.”

Curt:“Cool.”

Dave:“Well, I wanted to play drums but…”

Rob:“Dave, your drum playing sucks.”

Dave:“Ok, I’ll play guitar.”

Rob:“Well, we really need a bass player since I
can play the lead guitar on ‘Spoonful’, you know, the Cream song.”

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

The
judge’s chambers were just what you would expect.The walls were clad in mahogany paneling and
burgundy leather chairs lined the table. I was assisting
my boss Max that day, as I had been on the job just two weeks and had only been a “real”
lawyer for a few weeks before that.

We
all stood as the judge entered the chambers. The judge was in his 70s and a
little hunched over. He had a full head of white hair.His craggy face bore a permanent scowl. Max whispered to me, “That’s Judge Wilson, a
real ‘good ole’ boy’ who was raised in the country.”“Jeez”,
I thought, I’m glad I‘m not arguing in front of this guy.”

Max
leaned over to me, “Dave, you’ve done all the research; I’m going to let you
argue this.”After recovering from the
shock, I protested, “But Max, I’ve never argued in court.”Max chuckled:“I guess you’ll learn. And by the way Dave, I don’t think your arguments
are going to fly.”“Great”, I thought, “not
only am I a novice, now I’m being told I have a bad case.”

Indeed,
aside from my lack of experience, I had a bigger hurdle.I represented the County and was arguing that
cock-fighting was illegal, despite the fact that it had been going on openly in
our town for over 100 years.The County
was fairly urban, but there was a substantial rural and agricultural
population, and cock-fighting was a way of life.The key to my position was that cock-fighting
violated the laws prohibiting cruelty to animals.

After
making my arguments and citing all the applicable cases, the opposition offered
its self-assured rebuttal:“Judge, we
been doin’ this a long time and nobody ever stopped us. It ain’t cruel, it’s a
sport.”

After
the last arguments were made, Judge Wilson looked at the court file for a few
minutes and stood up.He looked at me
and said, “That dog won’t hunt.”

________

I wrote this for the Week
85 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write 33-333 words using the word
“fly” in the context of something moving or passing.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Ok, I get
it.Trifecta is messing with me.Last week, I complained that the prompt was
too constraining. So, this week, no constraints.Just me and my imagination. Well, I’ll show…oops! ______I wrote this for the Week 75 Trifextra Writing Challenge where we are to write 33 words about anything we want. Your comments are appreciated.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Walter stood
over the grill, sweat dripping off his forehead. The grill always let out an angry
hiss when one of his sweat drops hit the hot surface.He took the spatula and pushed it toward the
well at the edge of the grill, along with any cigar ashes that happened to
fall.That was one reason Sarah, his
daughter hated to go into the restaurant.“Ewwww Dad”, she’d say, “…that’s just gross.”But Walter didn’t care, he was just going
through the motions; he worked twice as hard as he ever did and made half the
money. “What am I doing in a damn restaurant anyway?” he thought.

At age 60,
Walter was declared obsolete.Before
computers came along, he would repair all the typewriters, adding machines and pay-masters
for banks in Manhattan. Walter was proud of the work he did and offered a mild
protest. His boss stared at him incredulously and said:“Walter, you’ve got to be kidding, your
machines are antiquated and crude.” Sure,
Walter would have been happy to retire at age 60, but he had no real savings and
three teenage kids. So, he thought he’d move to Florida, maybe work at a small
bank that didn’t have all those computers yet. But he could hardly get any
interviews and when he did, no one was interested in him fixing old machines.

Walter
grabbed the first opportunity he found: a friend was selling a restaurant. It
was a typical breakfast and lunch place, with eggs, sandwiches and hamburgers. Ironically,
Walter didn’t know how to cook and he never even worked in a restaurant. “What the hell”, he thought, “I can do
this”.

Before she
left, Sarah always said, “Dad, don’t forget, you’ve got to scrub everything
down at night or the roaches will carry the place away.” Walter gave his usual response, “Yeah, yeah,
sure”, knowing that he would be so tired that he could hardly drag himself out
the door.

________

I wrote this for the Week 84 Trifecta
Writing Prompt where we are to write a 33-333 word composition using the word “crude”
in the context of something marked by the primitive, gross, or elemental or by uncultivated simplicity or vulgarity.

Friday, June 28, 2013

I'm
of two minds about Trifecta prompts.Sometimes, I relish the confining structure; sometimes, I bristle under
the constraints. Today, my first reaction is to bristle, my second: bristle and
my third: bristle.

_________

I wrote this for the
Week 74 Trifextra Writing Challenge where we are to write an up to 33 word
composition following the same general structure of the quote, below:

Three
things in human life are important. The first is to be kind. The second is to
be kind. And the third is to be kind.
--Henry James

Despite my bristling
protests, I suppose the joke is on me since I entered anyway!

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Santiago had
a half hectare plot at the base of a mountain called “Cerro del Muerto” in
central Mexico.He raised a few cows and
grew corn.He married Carmen when he was
23 and she was 18 and they had eight children.Since the income from his land was not enough to support the family, Santiago
took extra work in a factory and did other odd jobs.But he continued to work the land and managed
to save a little, here and there.Carmen
worked hard too, cooking all the meals, cleaning the house and hand washing all
the clothes.

Santiago was
a humble man, but he knew he could make more money if he could expand his farm,
and so, when he could, he bought an extra piece of land:One little parcel after another, eventually enough
to support his family and his grandchildren too.But, for Santiago, nothing ever changed, he
just worked on his farm.Oddly, very few
people in town knew that Santiago, with his worn sombrero and faded overalls, had become
the largest land owner in town.Santiago
probably didn’t know that either.

While he
never indulged in himself, Santiago finally had to retire his old, rusty pick-up
truck and he bought a new one.This was
hardly a luxury, but a real prize for a simple man like Santiago.On his way into town one day, the new truck
stalled on the railroad tracks.Instead
of jumping clear of the oncoming train, he stayed with the truck, trying to get
it restarted. The impact was swift and severe.The truck was unrecognizably mangled.But Santiago managed to get out of the truck and say, “Yo estoy bien.”He collapsed a moment later and died where he
fell.

Santiago
never really enjoyed his wealth, but he provided very well for his family.Much of his land has been donated for
schools, parks and churches and, ironically, some of the land was sold to build
more factories.

I wrote this for the Week 83 Trifecta Writing
Challenge where we are to write a 33-333 word composition using the word “rusty”
in the context of something which is a rusty color.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

"Oh yeah, I remember, I'm in this fleabag hotel reaking of Lysol, wearing nothing but the polyester bedspread around my waist. Ok, I know I had way too much Jack last night, but jeez, I know how to hold my liquor, right?"

"Right darling, my folks will be so happy to hear they have a new son-in-law, shall we call them now?

I wrote this for the Week 71 Trifextra Writing Challenge where we are to write a complete story in three sentences.

Friday, May 3, 2013

She
laughed in the face of adversity, handling the onslaught with gusto and
assurance. The jabs and barbs were easily repelled and she handily dispatched
the adversary. A Divorce Lawyer Superhero was born.

I
wrote this for the Week 66 Trifextra Writing Challenge where we are to write a
33 word composition about the origin of a superhero.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Contestant
#2 was immobilized with indecision.As
he stood dumbstruck, the immortal words of Jimmy Buffett ran through his head: “My
whole world lies waiting behind Door Number Three.”

“Ok,
that’s easy”, he thought. “It’s a sign, it must be. I have to pick Door Number
Three. But wait a second; I shouldn’t be making any hasty decisions here. I
really need the money.My wife left me
in huge debt, I was fired last month, I lost my house and my dog ran away.

“Yeah,
I need to think this through. Who’s to
say Jimmy was speaking to me when he wrote that song? Holy shit, this could be
a trick!

“Well
ok… if it’s not Door Number Three, then it has to be Door Number One or Two.
Jeez, I got a 50-50 chance now, right? Yeah,
now I’m on the right track.

“So,
which one is it, then? Ok, let’s see. I
was born on November 1st, and I’ve never been lucky, so Door Number
One can’t be a good idea. And my wife left me on January 2nd, which
is a two and, fuck, that seems sorta
lucky to me…now that I think about it. I’m goin’ for Door Number 2”

As
it turned out, Contestant #2 was right; the grand prize of $25,000 was behind
Door Number Two.It’s funny, though, how
things turned out.That $25,000 wasn’t
really enough to cover all his debts, with taxes and all, but somehow, another
door opened for him that day.

After
appearing on national television, Contestant #2 was sought out far and
wide.He wrote one of those self-help
books, which sold millions of copies:How to Use Your Natural Analytical Skills to
Make Critical Decisions.

I
wrote this for the Week 75 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write a
33-333 word composition using the word “door” in the context of a means of
access to, or an opportunity for, success.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Boys were calling day and night. The well-endowed sixteen year old was causing her parents angst. And who knew what she was doing, being a latch-key kid? Problem solved: Off to the convent. _______

I wrote this for the Week 65 Trifextra Writing Challenge where we are to write a 33 word composition using a compound modifier. Bonus: Compound modifiers which preceed the noun they modify are to be hyphenated and only count as one word.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

The matador
de toros, with his ornate, gold embroidered suit enters the ring with his two lesser toreros (subaltemos). The ritual would now begin.Each torero
attempts to attract the bull with his brightly colored cape of pink and
gold.The bull randomly charges, seemingly
intent on mauling whoever enters his vision.The subaltemos take no shame in running from the bull, which allows the
lead torero to assess his foe.

The picadors
enter on horseback with their lances.The bull immediately charges the blindfolded horses and a picador gives
one or two strikes into the back of the neck. The bull is weakened, but not
intimidated.

The torero
raises his arms, banderillas in hand, like a conductor holding his baton.He taunts the bull.The bull charges and the violent dance begins.Two banderillas are plunged into the bull. Enraged,
foam spews from the bull’s mouth; his desire to gore the torero is sharpened.The bull charges and the torero is grazed, but
not injured.The bull charges again and again and the
dance continues.

Finally, the
torero enters the ring alone, now carrying his red muleta (cape) and a sword
and the final steps of the dance take place.As the end comes near, the torero and bull lock eyes in final ecstasy,
each believing he will vanquish the other.

_______

I wrote this
for the Week 74 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write a 33-333 word
composition using the word “ecstasy” in the context of a trance.

This was a
challenging piece for me to write. I don’t condone cruelty to animals in sport
or otherwise, and I was hesitant to see a bullfight. Yet, I was interested in going.
Perhaps, I was inspired by my favorite author, Ernest Hemingway, who wanted to be a
bullfighter and who wrote so eloquently about bullfighting and by the fact that
bullfighting is very much a part of my fiancée’s cultural heritage.

Indeed, my
fiancée and her brother had a good laugh at my expense when I referred to the
torero as the “matador”, as it is a word only used by gringos in that
context.Technically, the matador is the
senior of the three toreros, but this word is only used in Spanish when one is saying: “matador de toros”, to distinguish the senior torero from the lesser
ones.

Finally, I
would like to note that I saw this bullfight in Mexico, but through my
research, I learned that the various stages of a bullfight, the roles of the participants and the terminology
vary from country to country, so this may not entirely square with your own
experiences.

I
wrote this for the Week 73 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write
33-333 a 33-333 word composition using the word “color” in the context of complexion:
the tint characteristic of good health or blush.

Monday, April 8, 2013

They said it wouldn’t last, but it did, for 35 years. I went to law school and you were a flight attendant. You flew to Luxembourg while I studied. On breaks, we went all over Europe. You went to med school and I started my first job. We blissfully raised three kids. As they trickled out the door, we grew apart.We tried, I guess. Even then, for me, it was “until death do us part”, until you shut me out. I couldn’t handle the charade and made the big move. I was a fool to do your dirty work.

________

I wrote this for the 100 Word Song writing prompt, which is to write 100 words inspired by Steely Dan’s song, “Dirty Work”. Ironically, this was a song my ex-wife and I loved and we first heard it while we were traveling in Germany.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Let's face it. Advice is overrated: obvious and unnecessary. Don't smoke. "Duh". Don't text and drive. "Yeah, thanks Dad; tell me something I can use, like how to get in that girl's pants." ________

I wrote this for the week 62 Trifextra Writing Challenge where we are to write exactly 33 words of advice. I didn't actually follow the rules since I couldn't think about anything useful I would say, which is pretty much what I think about most advice.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The
tall blonde sauntered into my office.I
knew it was going to be a bad day when she asked me to take a case without a
retainer.But this babe had legs like a
gazelle and a body that wouldn’t quit; I just couldn’t turn her down.I poured her a whiskey, straight up, and she
spilled her guts. It seems that her husband had been slapping her around, real
bad.

The broad told me that she had lots of dough, so much, that she could open a bakery for the
Chinese Army. She then told me that
her husband was connected and that the cops wouldn’t help her.I said, “So, what am I supposed to do, rub
this guy out?” Sheepishly, the lady said: “Well…whatever
you think…and I’ll pay you a lot, and
then some, once the job is done.” I didn’t believe her cock and bull story
about the money; but her line: “and then some”, intrigued me.

So,
I had some friends meet the husband in a bar.Yeah, we could’ve fit him for a cement kimono, but that’s not my
style.So, my buddies just roughed him
up; they were all over him like a cheap suit.They slipped him a mickey and the next thing he knew, he was on a freighter,
bound for…who knows? I didn’t ask.

So,
I called the dame and there was no answer.I could’ve guessed she’d skip town.I strolled to my walk-up on Eighth Avenue.I walked in; the place was so quiet, it made
the morgue seem like Joe’s Bar. I turned on the lights and there she was,
wearing nothing but her birthday suit, lying on a pile of thousand dollar bills that would fill
Hoover Dam. After we rolled around in the dough, she grabbed a handful of bills, threw them in the air and let them rain down.

Turned
out, the husband had quite a stash and it was a good day after all.__________ I wrote this for the Week 71 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are supposed to write a 33-333 word composition using the Urban Dictionary definition of "rain" in the context of bills coming down on someone.I was inspired to write a Noir-like piece after having read many idioms in last week's Trifextra Writing Challenge and having also played a #hashtag called #failednoir on Twitter. Your comments are appreciated.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

I
read and watch the news about the pending gay marriage cases in frustration.To be sure, there are all sorts of difficult legal
issues to be resolved, but I just wonder why we can’t just step back and ask, “Why
is all this necessary?”

If
the state and federal governments could just refrain from legislating how two
consenting adults decide to live together as a couple, we could get past the
legal wrangling over manufactured issues and get on with some real problems.There are too many to name, but how about adopting
some simple gun control legislation? Or
asking what should be done about teenage boys who rape a girl and then brag
about it?

“Huh”,
you say: “What planet have you been living on?” Yeah, I get it; I know how the
real world works:There are the
self-appointed moral police, the special interest groups and big business, not
to mention plain-old evil thinking people, all of whom make it their life’s
work to influence our lawmakers.Yeah, but wouldn’t we be lucky people if just a
few of these ignorant souls could get their heads out of their asses?

____________

I wrote this for the Week 70 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write a 33-333
word composition using the word “lucky” in the context of producing a favorable
result by chance.

I am late entering this week due to having some surgery which came out ok, but
which had me tied up with doctors and hospitals all week.I mention this only because I may not see as
many of the other entries as I usually do, especially now that there are so
many.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

I stand in the cold rainAnd try to rememberWhat the rebellion was all aboutAs I think about the lossAnd who did what first, I wonder if it really matters anymoreAn abyss_____ I wrote this for the Trifextra Week 60 Writing Challenge where we are supposed to write a 36 word composition using the words "remember", "rain" and "rebellion".Your comments are appreciated.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

None
of the cute girls in high school noticed me until I became a “hippie”.At the beginning of my senior year, my
friends wanted to go to a Led Zeppelin concert.I had liked their music on the radio, but going to a live concert was a
totally different experience.

I
loved the loud music in the dark, smoky concert hall and I was hooked. Within a
couple of months, my friends and I saw Traffic, Cat Stevens, Alice Cooper and Grand
Funk Railroad (I know, I’m embarrassed about the Grand Funk thing, but we went
to see any band which came to town).

Along
with my new interests, I grew my hair past the top of my ears and bought a few
pairs of bellbottoms and a wide leather band for my watch. And, so, as it is
with many high school kids, I changed my whole persona. Since most of the kids
wore button down collared shirts and penny loafers, I caused some attention.

The
funny thing was, I had no strategy with the new look. I wasn’t the rebellious
type and I wasn’t trying to make a statement.I was just going along with my friends.But, it was a big surprise to see how my new style would infect me with
a different status in school. Suddenly,
all the cheerleaders who I had a crush on were interested in me. Apparently, these
very proper girls were attracted to what they perceived was a risky, mysterious
lifestyle.

Even
though I enjoyed the attention, as events unfolded, with escalation of the Viet
Nam war, the riots and head bashing at the Democratic National Convention and
Watergate, I realized that my style of dressing and the cheerleaders’ reaction
to it were pretty superficial; there were other things to worry about.

__________

I
wrote this for the Week 69 Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are to write
33-333 words using the word “infect” in the context of: “to contaminate, corrupt”
or “to induce” some reaction.